


Valkyrie

by Nevar



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5172485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevar/pseuds/Nevar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Courier wakes up after getting shot in the head, but things are not as they should be. She's trapped in an unfamiliar land in an unfamiliar time, armed only with her wits and whatever she can jury rig together. To the East, a shadow has descended upon the land from out of nowhere, escalating the conflict between the NCR and the Legion at an alarming speed.</p>
<p>Faced with an unknown enemy with abilities that transcend understanding, can Kyrie save not only herself, but the entire Mojave?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Shots Fired

**Author's Note:**

> I am probably an idiot for posting this right before Fallout 4 comes out, but I couldn't post it any earlier since I had to iron out some details. 
> 
> Welcome to Valkyrie. 
> 
> This is a story set in the New Vegas universe that centers on the female Courier. As with the other Fanfics (although most of them aren't here) I've written, this deviates A LOT from the original, to the point where I often question why I don't just write my Fanfics as original stories. I have been wanting to write this story since June or so, but have only gotten around to posting it now that I have a better grip on what will happen in the future. I hope to post weekly updates to this, but it will depend on how much free time and energy I have during the week. Investment banking is like a black hole that eats those things endlessly.
> 
> As with any author, I humbly request that you provide feedback. It's always awesome when I get to connect with readers through the tales I weave.
> 
> And now I'm talking too much. 
> 
> Please, enjoy Valkyrie, and tell me what you think.

Kyrie ran at a breakneck pace, making sharp turns through the labyrinthine back alleys of her home town. Her suitcase made it difficult, and she made a mental note never to lug around a 30 pound robot by herself in the future, assuming she had one. She mentally slapped herself. Now wasn’t the time to be pessimistic.

“Help!” she screamed, not for the first time in the past few minutes. She couldn’t see the mugger anymore, but she was sure he was hot on her trail. 

Still, she ran, fast enough that her gym teacher would have been proud. It was a shame she hadn’t paid more attention to the direction she was making those turns in, however. 

The man stood barring her path, holding a pistol. He was Caucasian, with a shaved head and multiple tattoos spanning his arms. She couldn’t help but notice that one of them said “I have a small dick” in Japanese, her first language. The man had asked her to hand over her things, but he had this murderous gleam in his eyes that told her she wouldn't be walking out of the alley even if she did. 

She cursed her luck as he raised the pistol to put her in his line of fire. Everything had been going so well. She'd finished her project on time, and she was about to turn 18 in a week! There were so many things she still wanted to do. 

“Stop, I’ll give you everything. Please!” She pleaded, offering up the briefcase.

The man just grinned. She noticed his eyes were glazed over in an unnatural way. 

A sound like the crash of thunder filled the alley, and then the world went dark.

###

Kyrie awoke with a start, clutching her face for bullet holes. It had only been a nightmare. She glanced up at the ceiling fan rotating steadily above, keeping the sunlit room somewhat cool. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes again, annoyed that the dream had ruined her sleep. 

It took her a full ten seconds to remember that her room didn’t have a ceiling fan. She shot up, feeling immensely heavy. She looked down and noticed she was topless. More importantly, her boobs were gone.

“Whoa, easy there. Easy,” a kindly voice said to her left. She covered her chest on instinct. It was an old man with a mustache. “You’ve been out a couple of days now. Why don’t you just relax a second? Get your bearings.”

Kyrie forced herself to calm down. What was going on? She wanted to speak but she was afraid of the sound that would come out.

“Let's see what the damage is,” he said. “How about your name? Can you tell me your name?”

Just as she was about to speak, the world seemed to freeze and what looked like a dialogue box appeared before her. She waved her hand in front of the man’s face, but it seemed like no one as home.What the hell was going on? 

The box read “Courier” in yellow letters. She guessed she was supposed to put her name in, but had no idea how. Then, as if it could read her mind, a holographic keyboard appeared before her. She looked at it suspiciously for a moment, and then shrugged. It wasn’t like it was any weirder than what had already happened so far. She typed in “Kyrie,” not offering her last name as she hadn’t been told if it was necessary or not. When she was done, the world unfroze.

“Well, I can’t say it’s what I’d have picked for you, but if that’s your name, then that’s your name,” he said, which earned him a scowl from her.

“I’m Doc Mitchell, welcome to Goodsprings,” he said by way of introduction. “Now I hope you don’t mind, but I had to go rooting around there in your noggin to dig all the bits of lead out.”

Kyrie’s eyes widened. Lead? In her head? What was he talking about?

“I take pride in my needlework, but you'd better tell me if I left something out of place,” he said, handing her some strange device. She hesitated for a moment, but then she took it from him. The world froze again, and the monitor on the device showed the face of a man. 

“What does he mean, check if he left anything out of-” Kyrie stopped herself misentence, hearing the deep baritone that came out of her throat. 

“Oh God,” she said, the situation finally dawning upon her. With a trembling, large hand that looked nothing like her own, she reached down to the shorts she was wearing and pulled the waistband just enough for her to take a peek. She immediately let the garter go as she saw it, causing her to bite her lip as immense pain struck the area. 

She was a man! And a white man, at that! “Left something out of place,” he’d said. How about getting her freaking gender wrong? That was when she remembered the device in her hand. There was a display on the side that read “Male” on top of “Female.” It looked like Male was selected. What if-

No, there's no way, she thought, afraid to speak and hear her new voice again. Regardless, she chose the second option anyway, and found her body magically transform before her eyes. A matching sports bra even appeared to cover up her boobs. Or at least, she was pretty sure they were her boobs. They felt different somehow, maybe heavier.

Kyrie wound up spending the next half hour trying the wondrous device out. In the end, she settled for as close as she could to her normal appearance. Well, her normal appearance if she was one cup bigger, had ab lines, and perfectly clear complexion, anyway. She even took a few minutes to go through the hair styles, finding none to her liking. She supposed she could always cut it later. When she was done, the world unfroze again, and she was almost reluctant to give the gadget back to the Doc.

“Well, I got most of it right, anyway. Stuff that mattered,” he muttered. 

“You gave me a dick!” she protested. 

He just shrugged. “Okay. No sense keeping you in bed anymore. Let's see if we can get you on your feet.”

The Doc had her walk over to a machine that supposedly tested her physical condition, but it didn't look like any modern medical device she knew of. In fact, the entire place had that Old America feel to it. It was like she’d stepped out of 2015 and into some Cowboy movie. 

The Vigor Tester was simple enough. It asked her to place her hand on the knob. She did so, and the world froze for her a third time. This time she paid it no attention. The machine showed her seven attributes, giving a short explanation of what each one did. It had taken her a while to realize it, but this whole setup with the gender swapping and the dialogue boxes reminded her of a video game. Well, that wasn't too bad. She’d played a few of them before she moved on to building robot kits.

She wound up boosting her Intelligence and Charisma to 9, keeping Strength at 6, lowering Perception to 2, and then distributing the rest of the deficit among the others. The Doctor had her go through a psychiatric evaluation and fill out a form for her family history before finally letting her go. He was kind enough to give her a navigation device, an outfit that belonged to his late wife, and free reign to take anything she needed from his house. While she felt like he’d already helped enough, she did take him up on it, sifting around for anything that could be of use before she left.

“Thanks for patching me up, Doc,” she said. “And for everything else.”

“Don't mention it. It's what I'm here for,” he said. “You should talk to Sunny Smiles before you leave town. She can help you learn to fend for yourself in the desert. She'll likely be at the saloon.”

With that, Kyrie had a destination, even if it was a close one. She twisted the knob of the front door open and took her first step into the Mojave Wasteland.


	2. Meet the Gang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyrie takes her first steps into the Mojave.

The sun burned her skin as she stepped out of the house. Kyrie ducked her head and walked quickly, bypassing the General Store to get to the Prospector Saloon. She opened the door and got in, closing it behind her to get out of the baking heat. A redheaded woman wearing leather was in front of her, with a dog growling softly at her side.

“Cheyenne, stay!” the woman said, presumably to the dog. “Don’t worry. She won’t bite unless I tell her to.”

As if to demonstrate, the dog immediately went from aggressive to derpy adorable. Kyrie couldn’t help but pet it. 

“Sorry for barging in like that. Is there anyone here called Sunny Smiles?” Kyrie asked. “Doc Mitchell said she could help me out.”

“You're lookin’ at her, stranger,” Sunny said, thumbing at herself.

“Oh, hi,” Kyrie said. “My name’s Kyrie. I’m the one Doc Mitchell was patching up.”

“I figured that might be you,” Sunny said, extending a hand. “Welcome to Goodsprings.”

“Thanks.” Kyrie took the hand and shook it.

“Now, the Doc said I could help you out? Can you be more specific?” she asked.

“Mostly that you could teach me how to survive in the Wasteland,” Kyrie said, scratching the back of her head. It only occurred to her now how dumb she must have sounded.

“Uh-huh, meet me out back in a bit,” Sunny said, moving to leave through the back door. Cheyenne followed suit. She couldn't believe Sunny had agreed so easily.

Seeing not much else to do, Kyrie went after them.

###

“Hopeless,” Sunny Smiles muttered. She’d been saying it under her breath for a minute now but it seemed she couldn't keep her voice in check any longer.

Kyrie sighed as she crouched down again, trying her best to aim the gun at the Sasparilla bottle on the fence. She’d missed over twenty shots already and it was clear her instructor’s patience was running thin. She pulled the trigger, expecting the soft sound the Varmint Rifle made with each shot, but was surprised when all she heard was a clicking sound. 

Drat. She needed to reload. She was surprised when upon holding the gun, a HUD seemed to materialize in her field of vision. It gave her a good idea of how many bullets were loaded, but she’d been so focused on hitting the bottle that she hadn’t noticed the gun was empty. Kyrie sighed, reaching for some fresh bullets. Sunny’s hand on her shoulder stopped her cold.

“I don’t think guns are for you,” Sunny said. She must have been trying to sound neutral about it, but Kyrie could still hear the frustration in her voice. 

“You're probably right,” Kyrie admitted. “I've got shit skill in Guns, Energy Guns, Explosives.” She paused, looking at how she’d allocated her points via her Pipboy.

“I was going to ask for your help with some Geckos that were invading our water supply, but I think Cheyenne and I can handle this.”

Kyrie winced. “Wait! Let me help! I have decent skill in Melee and Unarmed. Maybe I just need another weapon. Let me head on over to the store.”

“You’re sure? I mean they're just Geckos but it seems crazy to fight up close when just about everybody has a gun.” Sunny furrowed her brow.

“Never know until we try.”

She offered Sunny the rifle back, but the redhead shook her head. “Keep it. Never know when you’ll need it for an emergency. Heck, you might need to sell it knowing how Chett practically robs people. Oh, and you might want to take these.”

Sunny handed her a pouch that jingled with the promise of coin. Kyrie blinked. She knew she didn't deserve any more help after screwing up and wasting all that ammo. Despite that, she nodded gratefully and untied the string that held the container shut. The contents were not what she was expecting.

“Bottle caps?” she asked, half expecting someone with a camera to appear and tell her she'd just gotten pranked.

“Yeah, beats NCR money any day,” Sunny said. 

Kyrie's eyes widened in understanding. “Thank you so much,” she said, placing the pouch in her pack. A look at her Pipboy showed that she had a total of 50 caps to her name. Hopefully, that was a substantial amount.

 

###

True to Sunny's words, they left the Goodsprings General Store with a lot less than what they had coming in. Even with the caps she'd been given, they had to part with the Laser Pistol she’d found in Doc Mitchell’s house and the Varmint Rifle before she had enough to buy a machete from Chett, however. She also bought a whet stone for sharpening it, which earned her confused looks from all present. Even Chett had stared long enough to lose his salesman persona for a moment.

“You're going to do what with it again?” Her companion asked as they went back inside the saloon. They took one of the empty booth seats.

“Gonna sharpen it with this whet stone,” she answered, already whetting the blade on it.

Sunny simply watched in fascination as Kyrie did it. Once she was done, she packed the whet stone back in her pack before examining the sharpened Machete via her Pipboy. There was a noticeable increase in its damage.

“Neat trick you got there,” Sunny said. “Think you can do that with guns, too?”

“I don’t think that works,” Kyrie answered, laughing a bit. “So, are we going Gecko hunting now?”

“Darn right we are.”

###

The Geckos turned out to be a very minor threat. Between Kyrie’s machete dealing crippling damage to them and Sunny’s supporting fire, they cleared all three wells with little trouble, even saving one of the townspeople in the process. It helped that the world had given her a wall of text explaining her Pipboy's VATS function.

When they were done with the Geckos, Sunny had her gather nearby plants to teach her how to craft things. Kyrie wound up exploring the old schoolhouse, as well, learning how to hack into security and pick locks. She picked up a number of things inside that might serve some purpose down the road, like scrap metal and duct tape.

“So yeah, you just gather what you need, then go to a campfire or a workbench,” she said, finishing the explanation. 

Kyrie looked at her with a confused expression. “Don't I need to know how to do this first?”

“You just need skill in the right area to know,” Sunny said. “After that, it kinda just comes naturally.”

“Alright, let me give that a try,” she said, approaching the campfire with the Xander Root and Broc Flower she’d gathered. She closed her eyes and found that Sunny was right. Somehow, she knew how to make healing powder, what it was made of, and how to prepare it. When she opened her eyes again, she knew the plants were gone, replaced by a bag of healing powder.

“See? Knew you could do it.” Sunny beamed at her. “Oh, and one more thing. Trudy, the bartender, will want to meet you. She’s kinda like the town mom. She’d be real cross with me if I forget to send you to her.”

“I’ll remember that. Thanks Sunny,” Kyrie said, offering her hand.

“Don't be a stranger,” Sunny said, giving it a firm shake.

###

There seemed to be some kind of commotion in the saloon. A man was threatening a woman who looked to be the proprietor. Once he’d left, Kyrie tried to find out as much as she could about this man who’d supposedly shot her. It turned out the town was caught in some kind of feud between a traveling merchant and a bunch of thugs. She made a mental note to seek him out. There was no way she was going to let the town burn after they’d helped her out so much. 

On the way out, she felt the gears of her head spinning, like they used to whenever she had a new idea for a project. Immediately, her eyes fell upon the pool cue which lay idly on the table.

“Trudy, can I have this?” she asked, holding up the wooden stick.

“I think we can give you a better weapon than that,” Trudy said, chuckling. 

“No, no.” Kyrie shook her head. “I need this piece. Please. I have an idea for it.”

“You’d better let her have it, Trudy,” Sunny said. “Think the poor girl’s head is gonna explode if she doesn’t get it.”

Kyrie fixed her with an annoyed glance.

“Oh, right,” Sunny said, throwing her hands up. “Poor choice of words. Sorry.”

“Well, alright, darlin’.” Trudy shugged. “You can have it.”

Kyrie thanked Trudy and made for the work bench outside. She took the pool cue and the machete and stuck them together using wonder glue and duct tape. The result was some kind of spear with a slightly curved blade. Her inventory registered it as a “Homemade Nodachi.” Kyrie grinned. The long-reaching melee weapon ought to even the playing field a little.

The object she'd created had some weird interaction with the world’s rules. For starters, even though it was held together by duct tape and wonder glue, the weapon actually had even better durability than either of its individual components. It was as if the components had stopped existing altogether, replaced by a single object that just happened to look like the sum of said parts.

She gave it a few experimental swings, finding that the blade and stick might as well have been held together by concrete with the stability the weapon had. Unfortunately, it also meant that she couldn’t separate them anymore. She’d have to be careful about going crazy with item creation unless she wanted to run out of items. With a decent weapon on hand, she decided to head over to where Ringo, the trader, was supposedly laying low. If she was going to survive in this world she needed to know a heck of a lot more about it.

###

Ringo offered her a job to protect him and the rest of the town, suggesting she enlist the help of the townspeople to improve their chances. Kyrie managed to get medical supplies from Doc Mitchell, Sunny’s participation, and even the help of Trudy and the other settlers. Although it took some convincing, Chett was eventually persuaded to lend them some leather armor. It was just Easy Pete who didn’t want to give her any dynamite, but that was probably for the best, considering her aiming skills.

Before she headed back to Ringo to tell him they were ready, and she had a feeling the Powder Gangers wouldn't attack before they were, there was one more thing she wanted to test. The leather armor she’d been given had a significant amount more DT than the blue jumpsuit the Doc had given her. She had no idea how much that protected her, however, particularly because the armor bared her midriff for some reason. It made her glad she’d taken the liberty of giving herself a toned stomach while at the Doc’s house. 

She grabbed an empty Sasparilla bottle from the crates outside the Saloon and held it like a club. Her Pipboy indicated the makeshift weapon had a damage per hit of 4. It was puny, and barely half of the protection provided by her new armor, but she needed to figure this out before the shooting started. Kyrie held her breath as she raised the bottle high and casually smacked herself with it.

###

The tension in the air was thick as Kyrie and the townspeople waited for the Powder Gangers to attack. Sunny had scouted them out and counted at least six, the man from the Saloon, a fellow named Joe Cobb, included. With herself, Sunny, Ringo, Trudy, Easy Pete and some of the other settlers combined they were at least even in numbers. The Leather Armor covering most of the settlers also meant they’d at least be able to take small arms fire without being hurt too badly. The name Powder Gangers implied they had explosives, however, and Kyrie had no idea how dangerous those would be under this world’s laws.

That was why she stood behind one of the crates despite the close quarters nature of her weapon. In games, melee combatants were usually sturdier than their ranged counterparts to compensate for having to close in, but she hadn’t taken enough points in Endurance for that. She cursed herself inwardly, wishing she’d given more thought in using the Vigor Tester. Unfortunately, the machine wouldn’t work for her a second time, no matter how she tried, and she couldn’t have known what stats she’d need with the lack of information she had before.

Outside of this world, a single stick of Dynamite would be lethal to a pretty big group of people, but maybe that wouldn’t be the case here. Just to be safe, she’d had the townspeople spread out, taking cover behind whatever they could find. She thought through all the preparations they’d taken, trying to remember if she’d missed anything, but all she could think of was missing out on Easy Pete’s Dynamite, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Her Nodachi's blade caught a bit of sunlight and glinted, as if calling her eye. No, that wasn’t right. She could have prepared better. Should have prepared better. The log on her Pip-boy had indicated several optional objectives to help defend the town, but she should have gone beyond those.

For starters, she could have acquired an even better weapon, or even made one using the workbench. They’d also had the time to build up fortifications using the numerous crates and wooden planks in the area. Perhaps she could have set some kind of trap. Admittedly, that last one was harder given the open terrain, but she still could have littered nails on the road or something. Unfortunately, now there was no time, so she'd have to make the most of what she’d managed and hope it was enough. Ringo had told her the thugs attacked his caravan without so much as a warning.

It seemed they did that a lot. 

A gunshot sparked the explosive tension, and suddenly bullets were flying and people were getting shot. Kyrie waited quietly behind her crate, peeking around the corner and waiting for her chance. Two of the thugs came forward, one wielding a baseball bat while the other held a fire axe. Unfortunately for them, everyone in town but Kyrie had a gun. They went down in seconds, lightly armored as they were. Kyrie watched as the remaining Gangers emptied their clips, mostly hitting the crates. As they reloaded, she sprang out from cover with her body low to the ground, weapon aimed forward. She'd envisioned herself as a knight charging forward with a lance, but with her low stance, she looked almost like some kind of beast, making her a smaller target. Her left arm covered her face as she approached. 

A bullet meant for her head shot into her left arm, but it didn't have the sting she was expecting, either because that was how this world worked or the adrenaline was dulling the pain. The shot barely damaged her HP. Her tests with the bottle had provided her with quite a bit of information. It seemed as long as she possessed a DT higher than the enemy's damage, she'd only take scratch damage from the attack.

The Ganger fired more shots, all aimed for her head, but blocked by her arm instead, for which she was glad. There was one exception to the DT rule, it seemed. Fortunately for her, she'd had the bright idea to check if aiming for the head was more damaging than hitting the body. Unfortunately, not only did hitting the head ignore DT, it also dealt bonus damage. For someone who couldn't shoot a stationary bottle off a fence, that was an incredibly unfair mechanic. The way she moved now, however, with a body part that was affected by DT covering her squishy head, was a suitable fix until she could think of something more permanent.

She made a mental note to look into making shields she could strap to her arms if she planned to continue using this trick.

A gray streak sped by, easily out-speeding her two-legged sprint. Cheyenne leaped over the small wooden fence the Gangers were using as cover, using her momentum easily tackle one of the thugs to the ground and tear into his throat. Before the Gangers could help their fallen ally, Kyrie was already on them, stabbing into the first one she saw with her Nodachi. She managed to take a second Ganger down before they all started firing. They must have seen the crazy girl with the weird weapon as a bigger threat, because they backed away, abandoning the light cover they had and allowing the people of Goodsprings to shoot them up. 

In the end, it was a one-sided massacre, in favor of Goodsprings. As she pulled her blade out of Joe Cobb's body, she let out a sigh of relief. She was glad that, in the end, her not thinking outside of the box hadn't cost her. Then again, she realized she shouldn't have been surprised. Since this was a game-like world, then the whole fight had basically the tutorial mission. There would be stronger enemies, and she wouldn't have the Goodsprings militia to back her up.

Still, she was alive, and she needed answers. For now, however, she had a moment to breathe.

A gunshot broke her from her thoughts. She tightened her grip on her Nodachi. It seemed the desert heat was going to be the least of her troubles.


	3. Robot Recruitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyrie leaves Goodsprings, finding quite a bit of use for her talents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly speaking I feel like this chapter could have gone better. I did enjoy writing parts of it, but on the whole I feel this will be the weakest chapter in the story. The real meat kind of starts in Nipton, but I had to set up a few things before that. What do you guys think? I mean I'm assuming some people like it because I am seeing some traffic, but I'd really like to know what people think.

The shots came one after another, and while Kyrie’s first instinct was to duck, she realized she had no idea where they were coming from. 

It was the local livestock that showed her where. The mutated sheep known as Bighorners were fleeing from their pen, chased away by the sound of gunfire. Beyond them, on the outskirts of town, Kyrie saw what looked like a large metal torso fighting a bunch of giant mantises. She would have left it alone, but when Sunny and Cheyenne rushed in to help, she shrugged and and went after them.

What was the harm? If she could survive a gunfight, then she could survive a few insects.

It took less than fifteen seconds.

“Much obliged, pardner,” the robot said when it was done. A monitor on its chest showed the smiling face of a cartoon cowboy. “Name’s Victor. Good to see you kickin’ after I pulled you outta that grave.”

Kyrie was taken aback. “That was you?” She’d just assumed it was Doc Mitchell, or one of the townspeople.

“Sure as a Brahmin has two heads,” Victor said.

She had no idea what a Brahmin was, but got the idea. “Thanks, Victor.”

“Aw, shucks, it was nothin’.” 

“I don’t think I've seen a robot like you before,” Kyrie said as she studied him. 

“Now you’re just makin’ me blush.” The robot laughed. “I’m a RobCo Industries PDQ-88b Securitron.”

“RobCo Industries?” Kyrie echoed, trying to remember if there was a robotics company that had that name.

“They made a lot of the robots you see these days,” Sunny explained. “The Protectrons, the Sentry bots, and those little floating ones that sound like radio stations.”

“Ah,” was all Kyrie could say, having never heard of any of these. She knew this was supposedly the future, but only now did she realize just how much time must have passed. Instead, she moved the conversation to something else. “Say, Victor, how come you didn't help out during the fight with the Powder Gangers?”

Victor took a moment to answer. “I dunno, pardner,” he said. “Easy Pete told me some rustlers were comin’ into town and then, I just can't remember.”

Now, that was odd. “Would you mind if I took a look?” Kyrie asked.

“Help yourself, pardner,” Victor answered, allowing a keyboard to extend from his torso slot. 

Sunny waited patiently as Kyrie looked through Victor’s operational log. Even at a quick glance, she could tell someone had sent a remote signal to disable him recently. It was also clear that he’d gotten quite a few remote commands on the night when she'd been left for dead. It could have been a coincidence, but she’d need to be careful around him from now on.

“It looks like someone turned you off,” she said, once Victor was back online. “Any idea who that might be?”

“That so?” Victor asked. “I have no idea. I am terribly sorry I couldn't help ya out, but looks like you had everythin’ under control.”

“That’s alright, maybe you can help me out another way.” Kyrie grinned. “What can you tell me about the guys who left me for dead?”

###

They celebrated in the prospector saloon. Trudy offered a round of drinks on the house to everyone who'd participated in the town's defense. Kyrie herself was currently seated in one of the booth seats, sipping gingerly on a glass of whiskey.

She'd never been a heavy drinker, and while she wanted to get to work on her equipment, it didn't seem like a good idea for someone who played a vital role in preparing the town to be absent.

"Mind if we join you?" It was a voice she'd become well acquainted with over the past few hours. A friendly bark followed her question. It was hard to forget the first friend who fought alongside you in battle.

"No problem," Kyrie said, scooting inwards to offer more room. Sunny and Cheyenne took the seat opposite, however.

"I gotta say, I don't think I've ever seen anyone fight like that." Sunny grinned. "You're crazier than a Gecko jacked up with Psycho, but you barely got a scratch on you."

Kyrie laughed, already feeling a slight buzz." It wasn't that crazy, believe me. Leather armor was keeping me safe unless they got a shot through my fingers."

"Still pretty nuts," Sunny said, shaking her head. "I'd hate to be the guy who shot you in the head."

"I really do need to find him," Kyrie said, straightening up. He might know how she could get back. It was easier said than done, however. While she was aware that she was in some twisted version of future America, she knew very little about this world. There was also a good chance he would just shoot at her again. Victor hadn't been able to tell her much besides a description. She was looking for a man in a fancy suit and some thugs wearing leathers. 

"Well, I thought I’d ask around for ya. Trudy said he and his thugs seemed to be on their way to Primm. " Sunny paused, taking a shot." I can suggest a route. Here, give me your map."

As she reached her left hand over so Sunny could see the Pipboy, an idea struck Kyrie.

"Hey, can I ask you for a really big favor?" 

Sunny quirked her eye in surprise, but looked like she was willing to listen.

She said all of it in one breath, at a speed that made it hard to understand for anybody. 

"Whoa, slow down there," Sunny said with a grin. "You may wanna repeat that 'cause I barely got any of it."

Kyrie took a deep breath to calm herself down. She needed to relax. Sure she was asking a lot but Sunny had been supportive this whole time. She repeated her request more clearly. "Is there any chance I could convince you to come with me to look for the man who shot me? I know it's probably dangerous but I don't know anything about this place and I'll probably die if I go alone.”

She’d closed her eyes while saying it, but worked up the courage to pry one lid open. Sunny was stroking her chin, thinking.

"I dunno," Sunny said. Kyrie felt her face sag. It had been worth a shot. She'd just have to figure it out on her own.

"I mean I can't leave Cheyenne behind or she'd chew up the whole town." Sunny grinned.

"That's okay," Kyrie said. "You've already done so much."

"So I reckon we'll just have to take her with us." Sunny beamed. Kyrie looked up in astonishment. "Unless you think three's a crowd."

"No, no! Not at all! Thank you so much."

###

The road to Primm was relatively safe. After spending the night in Doc Mitchell’s house and waking up early to visit the workbench and craft some gear, she met Sunny and Cheyenne at nine in the morning, ready for their trip.

Besides a run-in with some Powder Gangers who Sunny took down easily from a distance, sticking to the roads kept them from having to fight the local fauna. It was almost unfortunate since Kyrie was hoping to test out the shields she’d made earlier. They were essentially leather-wrapped planks of wood attached to her arms by medical braces, but they gave her a fair increase in DT and would help her advance on firing enemies. She'd considered building herself a helmet, but figured it would be easier to find one rather than make one from scratch.

When they finally reached the settlement known as Primm, a man wearing a soldier's uniform approached them. He didn't raise his weapon but Kyrie kept a steady grip on her Nodachi. She couldn’t help but notice he was wearing a helmet.

"Easy there, Kyrie. He's NCR," Sunny said, motioning for her to get her hand off the weapon.

"Hey. Haven't you heard? Primm is off limits,” the NCR Trooper said.

"What's going on in Primm?" Sunny asked.

"We've got some Powder Gangers holed up in there." The soldier pointed towards the building with the roller coaster.

Great. That was exactly what she needed. More Gangers and no Goodsprings to back her up.

“Is the NCR backin’ away from Powder Gangers now?” Sunny asked, clearly annoyed. 

“Look, lady, we just don’t have the manpower,” the soldier said. “They've got explosives, and they outnumber us at least two to one, probably more.”

“So the NCR can’t even spare troops to help out the little folk now?” Sunny pressed, practically in the soldier’s face. 

Kyrie had to give him credit. He managed to hold his ground in front of an enraged woman with a growling dog. 

“Ma’am, I’m just a grunt. If you really want to talk about this, go see Lieutenant Hayes in the camp up ahead.” He gave them a crisp salute after that, and then walked away as if to say the conversation was over.

Sunny wasn't done yet, though. “Oh, we will, soldier boy. We will. Come on, Kyrie.”

For her part, Kyrie could only blink while Sunny stormed into the NCR camp. 

“I’m really sorry about that,” she said to the soldier they’d just spoken to. “I didn’t know she had such a temper.”

The soldier gave her a stiff nod and said nothing else. Not knowing what else to do, she followed Sunny into the Lieutenant’s tent.

The inside of the tent was surprisingly bare. A man with brown hair was seated inside, looking over some documents. He looked up when the three of them entered, and offered a salute. 

“I'm Lieutenant Hayes of the New California Republic Army, 5th Battalion, 1st Company.” He paused a moment. “What’s your business?”

“We’re wondering why you ain't doing anythin’ about Primm,” Sunny said. Kyrie felt the urge to facepalm. There went any hope of leaving a good first impression.

“Look, we just don’t have the hardware or the manpower to deal with the escaped convicts,” Hayes explained. “We know Primm is a valuable location, but it’s not even under NCR jurisdiction. We’ve got most of our troops over at the Dam, protecting the Mojave from Caesar and the Witch of the East.”

Kyrie quirked an eyebrow at those names. It was hard to take anyone using them seriously.

“Well, maybe if ya helped out, the people’d be more inclined to wave yer flag,” Sunny countered. 

“Taking the town back is one thing. Holding it is another.” Hayes unrolled a map on his table. “Look here.” He pointed towards a nearby location. “This is the NCR Correctional Facility. Up until recently, we’ve been keeping the convicts locked up there, but now they’ve taken over. Even if we do deal with the ones occupying the Bison Steve Hotel, we’d be hard pressed to defend the town from the others.”

“Fine, if you're not gonna do anything, we will,” Sunny said with a huff as she turned to leave. “Come on, Kyrie.”

“We will?” Kyrie asked as they left the tent. 

“Don’t tell me you're okay with lettin’ a bunch of lowlifes take control of the town, too?” Sunny frowned.

“No, no,” Kyrie said, waving her hands in denial. “Of course not. I helped Goodsprings, didn’t I? Aren’t we a bit in over our heads here, though? There’s only two-”

Cheyenne interrupted with a protesting bark. 

“Three of us,” Kyrie said, correcting herself. “There might be more Gangers here than Joe Cobb had.”

“We could ask the people to help us,” Sunny suggested. “I’m sure the local law enforcement would be willin' to lend a hand.”

“Fine, fine,” Kyrie said. “I’d been wanting to test out my new stuff anyway.”

Just as she crossed the bridge leading into town, however, a rapid beeping sound put her on guard. Before she could figure out what was making the sound, a loud boom sounded from beneath her. The force of the explosion through her back, making her crash painfully against the small guard post the NCR had erected. Her vision swam as she shook her head. The blast had nearly killed her, crippling both of her legs. She felt the sting of a Stimpak as the medicine was administered to her legs.

“Kyrie, you alright?” a voice called. It was Sunny, looking down like she was holding a dead body.

“I’m fine,” she said. It was only partly a lie. If she’d walked onto a mine in real life, she would have lost both legs and died in minutes, so she considered herself coming out fairly ok. That didn't change how much it hurt, however.

“I’m sorry,” Sunny said. “I should have checked. I could have blown them up from a distance with my gun. Why didn’t you say anything?!?” Kyrie was confused at first, but then realized the last question was directed at the NCR Trooper manning the guard post.

“So this is pain,” Kyrie said weakly.

“What?” Sunny asked.

“This is what it’s like to take real damage,” Kyrie answered. Then she found herself laughing. She’d just survived an explosive blast.

“You are insane,” Sunny said. It didn’t take long before she started laughing, too.

“Let’s not do that again,” Kyrie said, feeling the Stim reviving her legs. 

“I’ll deal with the other mines,” Sunny said reassuringly. 

Once Sunny was sure all the mines had been disposed of, their party walked deeper into the town, wary of any snipers that might be using the buildings as a nest. Kyrie was especially on edge, since she had no way to close the distance if the enemy was perched too high up. She held a baseball bat in her hands, modified into a crude mace by sticking an absurd number of nails into it. The weapon didn’t have her Nodachi’s range or speed, but it did have more damage per hit. She also had a fire axe in reserve, but hadn't decided on what to do with it yet.

They’d gotten as far as the end of the main avenue when the gunfire started. A convict was shooting at them with a pistol, not even bothering to talk. Kyrie and Cheyenne sprang forward, her shield covering her face as she approached. She swept the bat low with her right hand, knowing trying to hit higher than her body would be counterproductive. The convict was knocked down as his leg became crippled. She followed up by bashing her wooden shield into his face, crippling his head. She finished him with a horizontal swing from her bat. She winced as his head flew off. 

Maybe that had been overkill. Unfortunately, the moment she looked away, another convict was on her, striking with a tire iron. Luckily, the hit landed on her shoulder and was mostly absorbed by her armor. Before she could stand up, he struck her again, but she caught it with her left shield. Just as she was about to counter with her bat, Sunny fired her rifle, which caused him to stagger backwards. Cheyenne, as if waiting for her master’s shot, leaped right on top of him and tore at his throat.

Kyrie breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the fight was over. She quickly downed a bottle of Sunset Sasparilla to slowly heal the damage she'd taken from the fight. There was no need to waste a Stim on such a light wound. As the sweet, fizzy liquid poured down her throat, she felt her body start to mend, and more importantly, saw her health come back up on her HUD.

“I can’t believe the NCR were scared of those clowns,” Sunny said as she patted Cheyenne.

“Right?” Kyrie had to agree. “Anyway, we should find the townspeople and see what help we can get.”

“Right, we should check the buildings to see where they’re all holed up,” Sunny suggested.

“Hang on. Who’s that?” Kyrie asked. From the corner of her vision she’d noticed a body on the street. He didn’t look like a convict. “He’s holding a package for the Mojave Express.”

“Don’t you work for them?” Sunny asked.

Did she? She had little idea who she was supposed to be before waking up in Doc Mitchell’s house. That was when she saw the big sign on top of the building he was leaning against. It read “Mojave” in big, neon letters.

“Maybe we should check in there,” Kyrie suggested. 

“Good a place to start as any.”

###

The Nash Residence was small on the inside. As they entered, it was clear there was no way the townspeople could have gathered in here. As Sunny and Cheyenne looked deeper within, Kyrie’s eyes found themselves drawn to a spherical object on the front desk. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be some kind of robot. Without a word, she began inspecting it, trying to look for a power switch. When she tried turning it on, however, she found it was malfunctioning. Despite having never seen such a bot before, it was easy enough to see which parts were broken. Finding items in the shop to jury-rig it wasn’t hard, either. 

“Kyrie, you found anyth-” Sunny stopped herself just as Kyrie finished repairing the bot. 

“Yeah, I found this robot here. It was broken, but I patched it up,” Kyrie said. She’d connected her Pipboy to the robot and was using the portable computer to interface with it. “Let’s see... Eyebot Duraframe Subject E. I think I’ll call you ED-E.”

The Eyebot made beeping sounds in response. 

“You sure are handy with machines and stuff,” Sunny said.

“I have some knowledge in the field of robotics,” Kyrie said. “And I've always had a thing for historical weapons.”

“Is that right?” Sunny asked, looking like she was about to pry. Kyrie decided to change the subject.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nah.” Sunny shook her head. “Place looks like it was abandoned in a hurry. Most of their things are still here. I bet they’ve all gathered somewhere. Strength in numbers and all that.”

Kyrie blinked. “You didn’t take any of their stuff, did you?”

“Not that kinda gal,” Sunny said sharply. “Aren’t you the one stealing that robot?”

“I-” Kyrie was at a loss. Even she wasn't sure why she’d decided to fix the Eyebot, nor did she know what she planned to do with it. “I’m just borrowing it until we’re done helping the town. Hopefully its owner is with the other residents.”

###

The Vikki and Vance Casino seemed like the only building big enough to house the locals. Ironically, it happened to be right across from where the escaped convicts were staying.

Kyrie couldn't help but doubt how secure that actually made the place, but if the town was anything like Goodsprings, she guessed the convicts weren't exactly eager to walk into a building full of armed hostiles.

That became even more apparent as they actually stepped into the building. A makeshift barricade of flipped tables covered the approach. The opening was so narrow that Kyrie was sure even she could hit someone standing in it.

An older man holding a gun greeted them. Upon looking at the three of them, his expression softened, but he kept his gun raised.

"You picked a bad time to visit Primm, stranger," he said.

"You kiddin'?" Sunny grinned. "Free loot walkin' around outside."

"We're here to find a man in a fancy suit," Kyrie said, recalling Victor’s description of her assailants. "He should be traveling with some thugs."

"I think I remember seeing someone like that," the man said. “Johnson Nash, by the way. I'm a merchant by trade."

"I'm Sunny, and this is Kyrie," Sunny said. "What can you tell us about those men?"

"Not much, I'm afraid." Nash scratched his head. "Wasn't givin' them much attention. I think Deputy Beagle was keeping notes on them, though."

"That's great!" Kyrie grinned. It looked like she was about to get some answers. "Where can I find him?" Is he here?"

"Naw, sorry to break it to ya but the deputy got caught by them Gangsters hidin' in the Bison Steve."

"Figures." Kyrie shook her head. She should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.

"Then we bust him out." Sunny punched her fist into her palm.

"No telling how many cons are in there, though," Kyrie warned. "John, is there any chance the people of Primm would help storm the place?"

"Not gonna happen, Youngster," Nash said. "We'll defend ourselves if they come in here, but you can't expect us to go in after they murdered our Sheriff."

Kyrie sighed. She couldn't blame simple villagers for wanting to keep their heads down. If she were in their shoes in the real world, she would have broken into a panic already.

"Can we head inside for now, though?" Sunny asked. "We just walked here from Goodsprings. My feet are killing me."

"Alright," Nash said, lowering his gun. "If you need anything I have some of my stock with me. Also, I can’t help but notice you got that pile of bolts working again."

Kyrie guessed he was referring to ED-E. “Yeah, sorry for fixing him without permission.”

“That’s alright,” Nash said. “If it were up to me I’d take him to the scrapyard in Novac and be done with it. ‘Course, since you went and took him from my place, I’d be willing to let him go for say a hundred caps?”

"We're gonna save your town and you still wanna get paid?" Sunny shook her head.

"Well as far as I figure, you just want the deputy, " Nash said with a shrug. "No guarantee you're gonna help us out after you get to him."

"Why you no good-"

Kyrie didn't hear the rest of the conversation, however. Her eyes were on the robot patrolling the center of the casino. Its design was ridiculous, looking more like something you'd find in an amusement park rather than a functioning robot. The cowboy hat on its head made it even worse.

"Howdy, partner," it said as she approached. Unlike Victor, its voice sounded extremely artificial, as if put together from various bits of audio. "Welcome to the Vikki and Vance Casino."

" Hi. I'm Kyrie," she said. "What's your name?" Even as she said this, she used VATS to find out. Primm Slim was its name and it was staggeringly durable, probably even beating Victor despite his more advanced armor design.

"Primm Slim's the name," it said. "Feel free to ask if you have any questions about the infamous couple."

"Actually, I was wondering if I could ask something about you," Kyrie said as she pulled out her Pipboy's connecting wire. "Are you feeling alright? You must be way past due for maintenance."

“That’s right." Primm Slim paused. "Are you a certified RobCo technician?"

"Something like that," Kyrie said. "Can you give me access?"

In response, the robot went into an idle state, allowing Kyrie to work on it.

" Let's see," she muttered to herself. "Primm needs some extra firepower, so what can I do with you?" 

She found that despite its retro appearance, it had a system that allowed for modular programming that was quite advanced even for artificial intelligence from her own world. This meant that while it was a security deterrent by default, it was possible to make it a janitor, or even a greeter or tour guide. It would only take a few hours to give it law enforcement protocols while ensuring its loyalty to her.

As she tinkered with its settings, however, she found a fatal flaw in her plan.

"This bot doesn't have weapons," she said, mostly to herself. It had drivers for three laser weapons, but didn't actually have them installed.

"I think the owner took 'em out a while back," an aging woman said. "Ruby Nash, wife to Johnson Nash."

"I'm Kyrie. Would you know why he took them out?"

"I didn't see it myself, but apparently there was a bit of an incident where Slim here turned somebody into a pile of ash for cheating at the slots," Ruby said. 

"Would you know what happened to his weapons?" Kyrie asked.

"Nope, sorry. This was before my time, after all."

"That's alright," Kyrie said. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem, kiddo," Ruby said. "You really think Slim can defend the town, though? Protectrons ain't exactly the toughest bots in the Mojave."

"Slim here seems to be the exception," Kyrie explained. "I could beat him with a pipe for hours and he'd still be talking about Vikki and Vance. If I could just arm him, he'd be pretty solid."

"Well, does it have to be a laser?"

"What?"

"When the folks here had to defend ourselves we picked up the closest weapon we could find. Didn't have time to be picky."

"You are a genius," Kyrie said.

She pulled her Pipboy's wire out of Slim and paced back to where Johnson and Sunny were still arguing.  
"Nash!" She called, interrupting them. "Can I browse your inventory?"

###

Choosing a suitable weapon for Slim was easier said than done. For starters, anything that used conventional bullets was out of the question, as the robot simply didn't have the dexterity for reloading.

She'd thought of giving him a melee weapon, but he lacked the upper body strength and speed of a proper close combat unit.

The obvious answer was an energy weapon linked to his Fission Battery, but Nash didn't have any on hand.

What he did have was a close combat weapon that removed the emphasis on momentum. Kyrie spent a good portion of that night rigging the Ripper handheld chainsaws onto Slim's appendages and connecting them to his own battery. 

Now all that was left was to finish his programming. She spent a lot of time staring at his modules on the screen of her Pipboy. It was tempting to simply erase his old programming and build her own, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong to delete something someone had worked hard on. Slim's personality as a guide was a unique module, as far as she could tell, custom made just for this one unit.

With a sigh, she left its personality in, knowing full well it might cause problems down the road. With a few more presses, the reprogramming was done.

“Law Enforcement Protocols reinstated, pardner. Initializing use of force authorization... authorization found. Yee-haw!”

“Awesome.” Kyrie grinned. She’d always wanted to make a fighting robot. “Those convicts will never know what hit ‘em.”


End file.
